


Tragic with a capital 'T'

by DisenchantedHalo (Morgawse)



Series: And Morrison Makes Three [6]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 01:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19780312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgawse/pseuds/DisenchantedHalo
Summary: Grant is nervous. Yes, nervous. Alphas have anxiety too. This situation with the two gorgeous Omegas is messing with his head. He’s called in favours. He’s pulled strings. He has even paid people money, not typically Grant’s MO. Why? So that he can sit in an upscale coffee shop with two sex-workers. However, these are not any two strippers; no this is about Frankie and Gee. No-one has affected the confirmed bachelor Alpha in the way these two have.





	Tragic with a capital 'T'

**Author's Note:**

> This will make more sense if you have read "You're in time for the show" first. I think it can make sense as a stand-alone piece, but it is probably better as the resolution of that story. 
> 
> I know there were a few people who wanted more from the three after reading the first fic. I said no initially, but Frankie and Gee's backstories wanted to be told, so here it is, with a sort of soulmate fairy-tale ending for you. Be warned there is some angst in the middle, and no smut whatsoever. So if you were looking for more of that from the first one, sorry to disappoint. 
> 
> I think that I got all the typos and errors in this, if not apologies from both me and the editing app I used. ;)

Grant is nervous. Yes, nervous. Alphas have anxiety too. This situation with the two gorgeous Omegas is messing with his head. He’s called in favours. He’s pulled strings. He has even paid people money, not typically Grant’s MO. Why? So that he can sit in an upscale coffee shop with two sex-workers. However, these are not any two strippers; no this is about Frankie and Gee. No-one has affected the confirmed bachelor Alpha in the way these two have. Nor has he ever cum so hard, not just when he saw them at the club, but every time he has needed to slake his thirst since. The only images that will do are memories of his time with the Omegas.

It hurts Grant to know that other Alphas, maybe even Betas have watched them together, seen the seductive toss of Gee’s head and the way that a perfect little ‘o’ forms on Frankie’s lips just before his orgasm. If Grant is right. If Grant can navigate his way correctly through this challenging meeting, it won’t be long before only he will see those quirks.

He still doesn’t quite want to believe it. It was one session — twenty minutes of pure lust-fuelled heaven. There was not even any contact because of the pane of glass between them. Twenty minutes is all it has taken to turn his whole life upside down.

Should he have asked them to meet him somewhere more private? He doesn’t want to spook them by getting them to come to his house. Yet, he doesn’t want to see them get hurt. Has he put them in danger, asking them to come here on their own, as unmated Omegas without any form of protection? Grant reminds himself of his assumption that Gee is a Rogue, some of the Alpha genes are buried in his DNA. If he is then, Gee can handle himself and protect Frankie. Unless everything they showed him was an act, protecting Frankie is something that Gee appears to do all the time anyway. Grant hates the idea that it was an act. If it was, then he will congratulate them on being two of the best actors he has had the misfortune to meet and offer his connections in the acting world before retreating to his solitary lifestyle. Grant does still worry, though. He has heard the stories of the asshole Alphas that can’t keep it in their pants around an Omega in heat or not. Grant detests neanderthals who blame their despicable behaviour on biology rather than admit that they are not strong enough to control their basest urges and show common decency to all other beings, irrespective of race, colour, creed, gender or sexuality.

Grant leans forward to pick his coffee up off the table. He takes a glance at his watch as he brings the cup of steaming black liquid to his lips. He is early, of course, he is. Grant Morrison is always early. No need to be concerned. He calms his heightened Alpha senses that are already so possessive that they are running at high alert for anything that might happen to the two Omegas, and at the uncertainty of their answer. To cap all of that off, he has no idea what their stories are. What has caused them to remain unmated and choosing to team up as an Omega/Omega pairing in a sex show?

Grant catches the eye of a passing server and orders another coffee. While he is waiting, he studies the café’s other clientele. Some were humans. Some were not. Some were couples. Some were friends. Some were colleagues. The only thing they all had in common, was money and a supposed good-standing in society. All of them going about their mundane lives, allowing their time to tick away second by second: few would dare to step outside the bounds of accepted normality, preferring a bland monotony and facing the sometimes cruel, sometimes enjoyable hand of fate with a disinterested resignation. Not Grant. He has never been one to be bothered by what others think. He thanks the unconventional lifestyle of his parents and his youthful fear of nuclear war taking place at any second to his need to make up his own rules for life. He is not bothered by what others think about him. He is respectful to others. He does not often go out of his way to provoke people or rub their noses in the freeform way that he chooses to live his life – the Grant Morrison way. His determination not to care what others think makes his disquiet about his current situation all the more risible. They accept – he begins a new chapter in his non-conformist life. They reject his offer – he returns to his well-established way of life outside the accepted norms of either human or pack society.

Grant is amusing himself with guessing how dull the other customer’s lives are, making up stories for them, wondering who would make good dispensable character fodder in his work when the door swings open. A gust of wind whooshes through the opening, the heated air curtain useless against the strong gusts blowing outside. Feeling that momentary change in temperature, Grant looks over to the door. 

Frankie and Gee slink in side by side. They have the air of deer caught in headlamps, so out of place in this high-class establishment.

Grant beckons them over. He is pleased to see a smile of recognition light up both their faces. He has ensured that although Brian, the club's owner, insisted Grant tell him who he was, Frankie and Gee have only been informed that he had been a client at the club.

“Gee, Frankie – welcome! Please sit. Make yourselves comfortable. I just ordered myself another coffee. What can I order for you?”

It is impossible for Grant to miss the look that passes between the two Omegas.

“Please. This is on me. I asked you here. I’m paying.” Grant makes sure that the authority is clear in his voice. There is to be no argument over this decision.

“Ordinary coffee with a little room for me, thanks,” Gee responds.

“Thank you, Alpha. May I have a lemon and ginger tea?” Frankie mumbles.

Grant takes a moment to take in the sight before him. The clothes they had on at the club were clearly work clothes. The ones they are wearing now are dirty, ripped, full of holes and stretched. That won’t do. It won’t do at all, not for his Omegas. Grant makes a mental note that, if they agree to his suggestion, a clothes shopping trip will be one of the first things that happen.

Apart from the clothes, they are as stunning as Grant remembers them. Gee’s red hair has been blown every which way by the wind. It has also given a reddish tint to his porcelain complexion. Frankie still carries that haunted look, being slightly windswept only adds to it, but none of that detracts from the beauty of his ink, the structure to his face and the way his dark hair cascades over his face. He looks as if he wants nothing more than to curl up under Gee’s metaphorical protective wings. Frankie can hardly look up at Grant. His head is tilted down so that Grant can’t see those exquisite eyes.

When the server returns with is coffee, Grant gives him Frankie and Gee’s orders. He wraps his hands around the red-hot cup and blows on the coffee. It’s a delaying tactic, and he knows it, but he can’t wait until Frankie and Gee have their drinks before starting the conversation. The silence will be too awkward. 

Rogue or not, Grant doubts that Gerard will start talking until he Grant prompts him. There is no way Frank will speak without Grant’s permission.

Seeing Frankie like this re-ignites Grant’s curiosity as to how the little Omega came to be so…Grant searches for the right word…this is something beyond the usual Omega natural submissiveness. The only word that pops into Grant's head is 'broken'. It fits. The ink indicates that there is a fire in there somewhere that needs rekindling. Who or what broke his angel, Frankie? If it is a person, Grant would like to make them pay for their crimes. The thought of knowing, as much as it repulses him because of what he is afraid he will hear, also spurs Grant on to begin.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’m too old to waste time.” Grant scans for acknowledgement on the expressions of the two Omegas sitting across from him. “I want to get to know you – both of you. You affected me in a way I thought was impossible that night.”

Grant sniffs the air surreptitiously. Some smell is beginning to distract him. He thinks he catches a whiff of honey, vanilla, praline and candied fruits. Grant is confident that they are using scent blockers because it’s not that strong, but he is convinced he does not imagine it. The fact that he can still smell them through the blockers like this confirms to him that he is right – they are meant to be his.

Frankie shifts in his seat. He scooches closer to Gee before crossing one leg over the other. He folds his hand in his lap; eyes still cast down.

Gee looks Grant in the eye. It is not a challenge. It is not a request either. He is checking that Grant knows what he is about to do.

Grant nods. Gee is the one who makes Frankie feel safe. Until that role is formally Grant’s, then Gee must do whatever he can to keep Frankie as secure as possible.

Gee places a reassuring hand on Frankie’s thigh, just above the knee. Gee also inclines his head so that he can kiss the top of Frankie’s head.

“I have a proposition for you. More of that later, but I wanted to be upfront about its existence know, so that you may leave if you wish. However, I rather hoped that you would do me the kindness of sharing with me how two such attractive and charming Omegas remain unclaimed and working…” Grant pauses. He doesn’t want to have any eavesdroppers know what his companions do for a living. Not that he gives a rat's about his reputation, but because how Frankie and Gee earn their money is nobody’s business but theirs. “Working in your profession,” he finally says with a knowing smile, playing the assured Alpha to a ‘T’.

Frankie lets out what can only be described as a whimper.

Gee shushes him, patting his knee with one hand, stroking his hair with the other.

“Coffee with cream on the side?” the server asks interrupting the heavy silence.

Gee indicates that is his. “The tea here, please,” he adds motioning to a spot on the table in front of Frankie.

Gee and Frankie pretend not to notice the way she places the drinks down, as if even serving drinks to two such low-class people could sully her. 

Her disdain for the two Omegas is not lost on Grant. His hackles rise instantly. Sure, they look out of place, but they ought to be treated with the same respect that any other patrons of the café are. Grant decides to make his displeasure known when he settles the bill. Grant will reflect that in the tip.

“How about I start,” Grant begins his brow still furrowed in consternation after the server had left their table. “Would that help? I know conversations like this are never the easiest.”

“I already know who you are, Alpha. I recognised you as Grant Morrison not long after the blind went up, even before you gave us your name.” Gee alludes to how the three men had met more brazenly than Grant has expected. “I would love to hear you tell it yourself though, please Alpha?”

Grant chuckles. It has not occurred to him that either of them would be comic-book nerds or that they would recognise Grant Morrison. The irony of the Rogue Omega knowing about the rogue comic-book author is almost ludicrous, yet it makes sense with all the feelings and emotions lurking around the table.

“I am indeed Grant Morrison. The apparently infamous Scottish author, one of the so-called British Invasion into the world of American Comic mythos. An unmatched Alpha of individual and peculiar taste. I pride myself on showing common courtesy to everyone unless, like that waitress, they prove themselves unworthy of it. I hate convention. I have never believed in the old folk tales unless I can find enough evidence to support them being true. It appears that, on one of these old folk tales at least, I have been shown to have been too dismissive. Frankie, my angel, it was your sweet scent that drew me in. I chased it across the whole district. I was intrigued by how your scent, Gee, overlaid Frankie’s. When I saw you both together there, I was overjoyed that I had for once allowed my basest instincts to have free reign. I assure you though…” 

Grant knows that after that admission, he must set up the next phrase right. Trust is imperative, but such a fragile thing. He cannot afford to lose their trust.

“…It is an infrequent occasion for me to allow that to take place. I believe we are all able to demonstrate a modicum of self-control. Animalistic characteristics should never be allowed to remain in the driving seat unchecked. It will never be my desire or intention ever to let my Alpha side run completely wild between us without any form of restraint from my logical self. That is, of course, assuming that there will be an ‘us’, but we are not ready to have that discussion yet.”

Grant thinks he sees Frankie’s eyes flicker upwards, sneaking a look at him. Grant presumes that Frankie is trying to read him to ascertain if Grant is telling the truth or not.

Doubt is plain to see on Gee’s face. He does not attempt to hide it. It is what Grant expects from the Rogue sex worker. Who hears of an Alpha promising to keep himself in check around an Omega, primarily when that Omega sells his body for a living?  
Grant leans back in his chair, taking the remnants of his coffee with him.

“Now, perhaps you would return the favour, Omega?”

Grant stares at Gee. Grant reckons that it will be easier to get the Rogue to share. His story may not be a pleasant one, but it has not left him as visibly scarred as the little dark-haired Omega.

“There’s really not much to tell, Alpha.”

“Humour me, please Omega. Your story interests me.” Grant needs to avoid an Alpha command. He wants to allow Gee to share his background only if he was ready.

Gee gives Grant a half-smile. The almost cocky Rogue was gone. In its place, there is a nervous Omega – not shy, but certainly unsure.

“Nothing you say will affect what I have already said, nor what I plan to say. However, if you are not yet comfortable enough around me, I will not make you tell me.” Grant offers Gee what he hopes is his most soothing smile and waits.

“My…my brother and I…we were…were raised by our grandmother in a town in northern New Jersey. Elena was an Alpha. She was kind, loving and supportive of us both. Our parents died in an accident when I was 10. They were a Beta/Omega couple. Despite the pain of becoming orphans, our lives with Elena were good. Our grandmother made sure that we had everything that we needed.

Elena and other people in my life assumed I would be an Alpha like her. I was so much like her. The confidence, the smart mouth, the independence, and being so protective of my baby brother.”

Gee wipes at the moisture forming at his waterline.

Grant knows what the next part in the story will be. His heart goes out to the Rogue as he understands the dashed hopes of being like his beloved grandmother.

“Then, I turned 16, I presented as an Omega, and my first heat followed soon after. My grandmother was amazing. Not once did she ever show any disappointment that I was an Omega, not the Alpha everyone had believed me to be. She ensured that I had everything I needed to be safe and comfortable through my early heats.

I think that we all hoped my temperament would mellow now that my Omega biology had shown itself. As you may have gathered, that never happened. No-one wants an independent, overly assertive Omega. Some Alphas were interested; none of them captivated me enough for me to become what they wanted, so they never stayed around.”

“But if you had your grandmother’s support? Why did you end up here, doing what you do?” Grant is aware that it is an intrusive question and that maybe he is overstepping the boundaries he had set himself. He pushes the uneasiness down. He wants to know why. There must be something else that leads to Gee becoming a stripper. With the support of an Alpha such as he painted his grandmother to be, with heat suppressants and scent blockers, surely Gee could have found another path in life?

Grant sees Gee bristle at the question. The vulnerable Omega disappears, and the self-contained Rogue returns. 

Gee straightens up, shoots Grant a defiant glare and exhales slowly before resuming his story.

“I have few talents. My face and my body are passable enough to overcome the lack of skill. In the end, Alpha, using them to make my way in the world, unclaimed, became one of my few viable options.”

Grant takes the hint. It is laughable in some ways that the Rogue Omega is giving veiled threats to the powerful Alpha. Thankfully for Gee, Grant’s sensibilities allow him to shrug it off as having hit too raw a nerve. He decides to back off. He will stick with his plan of encouraging them to open up and not force them to say what they are not ready for him to know. So, he stays silent, waiting to see whatever it is the Gee will do next.

“Mikey ended up presenting as an Omega, just as everyone had predicted. A handsome, docile and book smart Omega any Alpha would be proud to have on their arm. He was quickly snapped up. Only a year after Mikey was claimed, Elena became very sick and died. Most of her estate went to pay the medical bills. There was nothing left for me in my hometown. Mikey’s Alpha treasures him and takes better care of him than an older brother pretending to be an Alpha, but who is really another Omega, can do. I had no money, no home, no Alpha to support me, and no suitable job prospects in a small New Jersey town. Worse than that I had no money for blockers or suppressants. I did the cliché thing. I ran away to New York City to try and make my way in the world somewhere there might be more opportunity for someone like me, and – well Alpha,” Gee ends with more than a hint of sadness in his voice, “you know how that ended.”

Grant is appalled, mostly at Gee’s brother and his Alpha. Why would they not help Gee? Then again, Grant remembers how independent Gee is. Grant reckons that even if they had offered, Gee would have seen it as charity and refused. Besides Grant knows nothing about them other than Gee intimates that they have a great relationship. They may not have much themselves; not all Alphas are wealthy or even comfortably well off. What irks Grant the most is how the hell anyone wouldn’t want beauty coupled with spirit and some degree of independence in a mate? As for Gee’s inference that he is not all that his brother is - Grant disputes that. Everything he has seen and heard about this Rogue Omega so far more than makes up for him not fitting any outmoded ideals of what an Omega should be.

“I am humbled that you were gracious enough to share. I will not attempt either empathy or sympathy – I surmise you want neither. I will, however, say that I see YOU. The pieces of the puzzle slot together now. The man I saw that night and the one across from me now make sense. Thank you, Gee.”

Frankie lifts his head for the first time since sitting down. He turns towards Gee, then mouth hovering over Gee’s ear he whispers something to him before grazing Gee’s cheek with his lips.

Grant is fascinated. This is the first time he’s seen any reciprocity in their relationship. It is enticing. He can already imagine the sweet moments of domestic bliss that the three of them could share. He’ll have to work hard to prove he is worthy of the affection of these two delightful creatures.

It feels wrong to jump straight to Frankie’s story. That is if Frankie is even willing to tell it. Once more, the three men sit in silence for several minutes, either drinking from or toying with the cups in front of them. 

The hush between them is eventually interrupted.

“Ah, excuse me. Let me get rid of this.” Grant points to his phone which is blaring out some piece of music he doesn’t know but remembers is the one his publicist set as her ringtone on it. 

“Jacks! Can I call you back? No, pet, tell him he’ll have to wait. If he wants the same old schtick, everyone else has had I can squeeze him in later today. If he wants an exclusive, then it will have to be on my terms. I have more important things to focus on…Oh come on, Jacks, we both know my career won’t tank because I said no to a last-minute request to fill a cancellation in some journo’s diary…Brilliant, you’re an angel. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you!”

As he hangs up, Grant realises that Frankie and Gee are watching him. They are examining his expressions, the way he moves his hands as he speaks, the way his eyes crinkle and the crow’s feet appear when his face cracks into his signature smile while he’s talking. Are they observing the way he treats others to confirm whether he is the real deal? Can Grant walk the talk? He likes to think he can.

The longer they sit there, the stronger their scents are becoming. Grant wonders if the same is true of his scent. He has used a mild blocker to tone done the Alpha pheromones, but not drown them out completely. He resists the urge to lift his wrist to his nose. It’s too obvious a move. He needs to distract himself from thinking about how any of them smell. It’s not helpful. It only adds fuel to the crazy thinking that both Omegas might always have been destined to be his. He admonishes himself that whatever will be will be. Grant knows what he craves, but the pragmatist in him recognises that the power to fulfil Grant’s wish doesn’t rest with him. Technically it does. He is an Alpha and could claim both Omegas without giving it a second thought, but that would violate every value that he holds dear.

Now seems as good a time as any to approach Frankie. The lull created by the emotions felt in the wake of Gee’s history were shattered by Jacks’s call.

“Frankie, I get that this may be even harder for you than it was for Gee, but would you?”

Finally, Frankie looks directly at Grant – wide-eyed. Frankie clutches at Gee’s arm for comfort.

“There is so much about you that draws my curiosity,” Grant explains in the hope that he can draw Frankie out of his shell. “I see it in your face; it is literally written on your skin, the way that you hold yourself, the amount you seem to rely on your friend. I can’t change what was, but I…” Grant stops himself before he gives himself away.

“Alpha?” Frankie’s question is barely audible. It’s only one word, but Grant hears so much more behind it.

Grant leans towards Frankie, reaching a hand towards the Omega, but making sure that he doesn’t touch him. Using the gentlest tone he can muster, he responds, “Yes, sweetheart, what is it?”

Grant feels his face heat up. Honestly, an Alpha blushing? These two are turning him into a sap, but he can’t help the pet names that trip off his lips before he’s even thought about them, especially not when the question is as loaded as Frankie’s.

“Why did you stop? I know I’m not…I’m useless for…for anything other than sex…and…and…not worth anyone’s time…so…um,” Frankie hiccoughs as he fails to complete his sentence.

“Shush, you are most certainly worth taking the time to listen to and get to know. I was just getting ahead of myself is all.”

Gee steps in to help Frankie.

“Why don’t I tell Grant?” Gee looks back and forth between Frankie and Grant gauging their reaction. “You can add in anything you want, angel, ok? I think OUR ALPHA here needs to know what he’s up against.”

Grant gulps. Did he just hear that correctly? ‘Our Alpha’? Grant offers up a voiceless prayer to non-existent deities that his hearing isn’t playing tricks on him. He also reminds himself to keep his excitement under wraps, for now.

Frankie rummages around in his pocket for something.  
Grant notices the faint wet streaks staining his cheeks. He reaches into the bag beside him and pulls out a packet of tissues which he pushes across the table to Frankie.

“If it’s ok with you, sweetheart, I would like Gee to tell your story.”

Frankie mumbles something that Grant can’t quite hear. However, Gee does and begins to rub soothing circles on Frankie’s back.

“As I gather, you have worked out this isn’t a pleasant tale. It’s upsetting for Frankie to think about, let alone hear, but he agrees you need to know. Maybe one day you’ll get to hear it properly, but for now, I’ll tell you what I know of Frankie’s history from my perspective.

“Alpha?” Frankie pipes up, interrupting Gee’s flow. “May I…may I…may…I…I need…need to…Gee, I’m sorry…I need…”

Gee grins interpreting what it is that Frankie is asking for. Grant is pleased he does because he is clueless.

“I’m being demoted. I’m not a good enough protector anymore, Alpha. I believe Frankie would like to sit next to you, Grant, not me.”

Grant’s heart is about to explode. If the orgasm he had watching these two was like an IED, then this-this is like a nuclear warhead going off inside him.

“If that’s what you want? Of course, little Omega. Please come here. May I touch you? May I hold you?”

Franke gives Grant his answer by snuggling up so close it would be difficult to slide a sheet of paper between them.

“It’s all good. You’re safe with me. I’ve got you,” Grant says, wrapping an arm around Frankie, who lifts Grants hand up at the same time he lowers his head down to sniff at the scent gland on Grant’s wrist.

It’s like magic. One breath of spices, leather, and oak and Frankie calms instantly. Grant knows he doesn’t need any words from Frankie to tell him the answer to the question he hasn’t yet posed. Gee, on the other hand? Grant reckons that can wait until after he’s heard about Frankie’s life.

“Frankie and I have been together for over three years now. Not that we’re are a couple – not…not like that – more, I have watched out for him during that time, and we help each other through heats. It’s safer for both of us.”

Grant wants to make an unsavoury comment about another Omega, even maybe armed with a knotted dildo, not being sufficient to satisfy an Omega in heat fully. It’s crass. It’s beneath him, even if he knows that there is more than a shred of truth to it. Ultimately, nothing satisfies an Omega like an Alpha knot. Instead, he asks the question about heats and the work they do. He is so sure that Frankie was going into heat the night they met.

“Brian’s a good boss. He pays for suppressants. If we want blockers, we must pay for them ourselves. Unfortunately, we still have to follow the medical advice for suppressants and take the scheduled breaks from them. Except we can’t afford to take time off. So, we work through as best we can, never doing a stage show those weeks, always working from behind the glass. Brian also makes sure that Ray, Bob or another Beta gives us extra protection.

Even with Gee being a Rogue and additional Beta protection, Grant thinks its too risky for any Omega working at a sex club to work through their heats. It’s not something he wants either Omega to go through again if he can help it. He signals that he understands.

“It’s all thanks to Brendon that we met though…”

Brendon? Grant thinks the name is familiar. However, he can’t place it.

“It was Bren that found him. More accurately smelled him, then sent Ryan and me to investigate.”

Now it clicks for Grant. Brendon and Ryan the Alpha/Omega couple of performers that the curly-haired bartender had mentioned.

“We’d finished our shifts. They said that they would walk me home. I would usually scarper before anyone could suggest that, but this time I’d been slow, or they’d been faster, at getting ready to leave. Of course, Brendon won’t take no for an answer. He knows I can take care of myself, but it’s the protective Alpha thing in him. Sorry, I digress.”

A smirk spreads across Grant’s face at Gee’s admission of independence.

“I’d like to meet Brendon and Ryan sometime. I believe I owe them big time. Please continue.”

“As I said, we were walking towards my place after work. A couple of blocks away there’s a diner with an alleyway to the side between the diner and the thrift store next door. We’d just reached the door to the diner when Bren stops – stock still sniffing the air. Ryan starts to rib him about being ruled by his stomach when I caught something distinctly not food in the air. It wasn’t strong enough for me to immediately work out what it was, but I guessed that if Brendon stopped, it wasn’t another Alpha, and I probably would have got that scent anyway, it had to be an Omega. Another quirk of being a Rogue, I can smell another Omega if their scent is strong. It rarely smells attractive to me; it’s simply there.

Brendon explained what he was smelling. He told Ryan and me to look for a distressed and potentially nesting Omega. Ryan looked at Bren as if he had lost his marbles. Why would a nesting Omega be in a disgusting diner alleyway? It made sense to me. If I could smell the Omega then yes, it was possible that they were in distress, in heat or pregnant. My heart sunk. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach.

Brendon said he would remain out of the alley, staying away from the Omega and ensuring no-one else entered it from the street. Ryan and I slipped down into the poorly lit alley. Right at the back were two dumpsters, both open. We stood looking helplessly at each other, not knowing what to do. There didn’t appear to be anybody lurking in the shadows, and nothing was lining the side walls until the very end of the passageway. Eventually, we heard something move in the left-hand dumpster. Ryan beat me to it, jumping up, leaning over the edge and peering into the trash below. He yelled at me to join him. Not being quite so athletic, it took me two attempts to make it, but when I did…” Gee pauses to compose himself, moved by the emotions the memory evokes. 

“I could see someone hiding in the back corner. The shape was too big to be a stray cat or dog. It was, as we now know Frankie. That night all I could tell was that Brendon was correct – a distressed and nesting Omega. The terrified Omega had tried to cover themselves in plastic bags, cardboard and material, presumably clothes not in good enough condition for the thrift store to sell, to make a nest. I had no idea whether they were male or female, in heat or pregnant. I prayed to the gods they were only in heat.

I sent Ryan to get Brendon to order a cab to pick us up, specifying that the driver could not be an Alpha. I hoped that Ryan and Brendon would chip in for the fare. It wouldn’t be much for two blocks, but I only had enough money to pay that month’s rent. I knew instinctively that as much as he would want to help, having Brendon around wasn’t going to be a good thing for him or the Omega. So, I also told Ryan that once the cab was on its way, they could go – no arguing. Then I started to work on getting the Omega to come out. It took a great deal of coaxing and persuading to get you out of there, didn’t it, Frankie?”

Frankie nods, flushing a delicate pink through the silent tears.

“From there, the rest is pretty much as you could guess. I get Frankie back to my place. I help him get cleaned up. We talk. I do what I can to help him through the heat – thankfully it was on the wane when we found him. Understandably he didn’t trust me, but I’m an Omega so it made things marginally easier knowing I wouldn’t take advantage of him as an Alpha or even a Beta might have. Over the next months, we built on that trust. I work every shift Brian will give me to support the two of us. There’s no way Frankie could get a job in the beginning. I’ll get to why soon enough. But he’s so amazing that he realises that to stay with me he’s got to earn money or we’ll both be out on the streets. He begs me to help him get a job. I persuade Brian to give Frankie a job on the condition that I train him and that once he’s ready to work the shows either on the stage or behind the glass he only ever works with me as a pair. I still do some additional solo shifts so that we can afford some extras like scent blockers. At times I wonder if I get too overprotective looking at how far Frankie’s come.”

Frankie giggles. It’s a glorious sound to Grant. So much more becoming of his Frankie than crying.

“That’s as much of a happy ever after as Frankie’s got so far. He’s fierce, brave and determined, even if sometimes the lingering trauma of his past life tries to shake him. You referenced his ink earlier. I suspect that is part of what piqued your curiosity – his reminders to himself that life can get better. Another time I’m sure he’ll explain them to you.”

Grant can’t contain himself. He pulls Frankie in tighter to himself and plants a kiss to the crown of his head.

“I’ve already witnessed all that Gee says about you, Frankie. It’s why leaving both of you that night nigh on tore me apart. I don’t believe in the gods. I don’t believe in the old wives’ tales of soulmates and destiny – yet there I was, drawn inexplicably to the pair of you. There’s a fire that lights both of you, sure it does so in different ways, but it’s there, and it made me experience things I never believed I could. I dislike blank canvases. I detest mindless submission. I love to watch the sparks ignite in others. I saw that in both of you and I want to explore how much more there is.” 

Grant is, well quite honestly, he is putting his heart on the line here. He no longer thinks that this is betting it all on some random spin of the wheel. Grant calculates that the odds are stacked in his favour. He will do whatever he can to see the full extent of that fire unleashed in both these Omegas. 

If Grant was unsure of Gee’s response before, he isn’t now. The confounded look on the Rogue’s face speaks volumes. Grant wishes that the couches were bigger. He would tell Gee to come to sit on the other side of him so that he can wrap an arm around him too. 

The shift in Frankie’s posture at Grant’s words is subtle. It is not self-confident preening. Instead, it is someone trying to mimic what they think is the most appropriate response at another person showing genuine interest in them and complimenting them when they are not convinced that they are worthy of either but are too afraid of scaring the other person away if they reject their attention.

“This is the part I’ve been avoiding. Gods, it hurt hearing it three years ago, and it’s been rough as living with the aftermath. The one thing that’s been good and positive in the whole mess is that fire of Frankie’s that’s kept him alive so that now he’s here sharing life with me…” Gee looked up at Grant with an expression that Grant has never seen on the Rogue before, “and perhaps also with you too now, Alpha…or…I…maybe I…presume too…”

Grant jumps in eager to confirm his intention. “No, not a presumption at all. An educated guess. We’ll talk about that later. Please tell me what happened to my little Frankie?”

Gee rakes a hand through his hair. He runs the fingers of his other hand around the rim of his coffee cup and chews on his bottom lip.

Grant speculates that Gee wishes he hadn’t volunteered to tell Frankie’s history. Grant observes the vulnerability the – no – ‘HIS’ Rogue Omega is showing.

“Frankie never had a family. Not that he can remember. As a pup, he lived at one of those Omega factories. You know, where they breed and train Omegas to be unthinking and subservient. Any hint of wilfulness or independent thought, even playfulness was punished. They were locked up by themselves, they were beaten, and they were starved. If they consistently did as they were told without question or hesitation, they were fed and allowed the company of other Omegas.”

Grant has heard rumours. He never once paused to consider that they were real. He swallows the bile rising in his throat because he knows there’s more to come.

“Some unlucky ones, like Frankie, were groomed to be sex slaves before they had even had their first heat. I expect you can imagine what it would take to make someone with Frankie’s indomitable spirit compliant enough to become a puppet-like sexual house pet?”

Grant gulps in response. He can’t bring himself to do anything else. He can’t decide whether he is more distraught or enraged.

“Frankie’s had two Alphas own him. Neither claimed him. Neither professed to have knotted him either, apparently preferring to withdraw early and humiliate him further by covering him in their seed. They both returned him to the farm after a few months. I wish I could say that after the second master returned him is when he got away, but you know that’s not true. The bastards that ran the place decided that they didn’t want to waste Frankie’s good looks just yet. If he wasn’t well suited to the life of a sex slave, then there were two options put him in one of their brothels or put him in the breeding programme. They thought the brothel was a high risk given his history of disobedience, so they decided to breed from him. For a few months, they pumped him full of a cocktail of drugs they had developed to ensure that the pups he had would be Omegas. Once they thought his system had adapted, they started with the programme. The problem for Frankie was that it took several heats for him to get pregnant, and then he could not carry.”

Grant thinks he’s going to be sick. There is only one direction that this story is headed. He doesn’t want to hear it. Of course, what he’s expecting to hear never took place, because Frankie is sitting beside him, shaking and overcome by having to hear the details of his horrific past. What else do sick criminals do when something they ‘own’, but society doesn’t recognise as existing, becomes useless to them? They get rid of it/them – forever.

Grant doesn’t know what to do to comfort Frankie. He’s never been good in these sorts of situations. Calming an anxious Omega is one thing. This is quite another. He opts for petting Frankie’s head, hoping that the feeling of his fingers carding through the strands will be soothing.

“After two failed pregnancies…um…I can’t…Alpha…I’m sorry, Alpha…I just can’t…” Gee’s voice cracks and his face crumples.

Grant reaches across the table. He rests the tips of his fingers on one of Gee’s knees.

“You don’t have to. I wish I didn’t, but I know what you’re going to say. Some God somewhere must be looking out for our Frankie. He’s here with us now, alive and physically well. That’s the bit I want to focus on now.”

Gee shoots Grant a weak but grateful smile, relieved not to have to continue with the grim details of Frankie’s life in the breeding programme.

“You should know,” Gee confides, “that…”

Frankie interrupts, the flow of his words disrupted by the need to catch his breath. “I still get nightmares and panic attacks. I tried medication, but…”

“We can’t afford it consistently, and we can’t even get any state assistance to help pay. That’s the same with…”

“I won’t do therapy. Especially not the free group sessions at the medical centre. Talking about it doesn’t help, Gee – you of all people should know that.”

Grant is fascinated by this back and forth between them. Frankie is still holding his own. It may not come from a place of truth or accuracy, because Grant is well aware of people that he’s known who have found therapy useful for processing significant trauma in their lives, but Frankie knows his mind and isn’t afraid to call his friend out on his hypocrisy. 

Gee sheepishly acknowledges that, yes, he is of the same opinion as Frankie on talking through your problems with a stranger. 

Grant tucks away that snippet of information on Gee for further exploration.

Grant suspects that Gee knows he’s reached the limit of what he can do to help Frankie. It’s why palming Frankie off to therapy sounds like the right thing to do. Gee’s life hasn’t been easy, and it’s certainly left its mark, but it has been a picnic compared to Frankie’s, and maybe it has occurred to Gee that finding a sympathetic professional and potentially others who have experienced similar things to him could help Frankie find closure and move on without being haunted by his past.

Grant knows people. He adds the therapy conundrum and the need for anti-anxiety medication to the list he’s creating of issues that need to change in Frankie and Gee’s lives. It’s a growing list. For a split second, Grant wonders if he’s bitten off more than he can chew. Grant snaps himself out of it quick enough as he reflects on Frankie and Gee through the lens of how he’s felt the two times that he’s been near them and how they have occupied his thoughts between the two meetings. If the three of them are meant to be, if the gods have ordained their relationship, then they will find their way through. It may not be a white picket fence affair, but it will be real. It will be uniquely theirs.

Grant desperately wants to take this elsewhere, away from prying eyes and ears. The protective Alpha longs to cosset the two Omegas - to keep them from harm and the judgement of others. The next part of the conversation should be more comfortable than the one they’ve just had. Even so, discussing the first steps in so delicate a relationship shouldn’t be done in public. It’s a private matter for behind closed doors.

Grant had only expected to pose his question, then leave Frankie and Gee to think about it. Instead, he already has his answers. The ‘how’? He hasn’t thought about that! Any attempt to detail what he wants or expects from the Omegas and what they can expect from him would be winging it. He’s fantastic at flying by the seat of his pants when it comes to pitching ideas and creating story arcs. He’s built a successful career from that skill. However, this isn’t the comic industry, and as much as he hates the phrase, this situation is about ‘affairs of the heart’. It can’t be winged. It wouldn’t be fair to the two Omegas, especially with the amount of emotional baggage they’re carrying.

Grant is the Alpha. He is the one supposed to take control. Even if it’s an illusion, Grant must show poise; he must instil the belief into Frankie and Gee that he knows what to do next and that he has their best interests at heart. Grant plumps for his usual starting point – the truth.

“When I set this meeting up, I hadn’t counted on you both answering my questions before I’d asked it. I don’t have any ready-made solutions for going forward. Honestly, I don’t want to have a ‘next steps’ discussion either out in the open or with both of you so distressed. Equally, I don’t want to walk away from here without something more practical, more robust, now that we’ve all admitted that there’s something between us.

I refuse to tell you what to do. You’re both capable of knowing your own mind and making the right decision for you. I will respect whatever choice you make. I would like to propose that we go back to my apartment. There is enough room that I can give you space for as long as you need. I can work – the Gods know I’m already running up against deadlines! Then, when you’re collected and ready, we can talk over take-out.”

Frankie’s face puckers, his bottom lip is trapped between his teeth. His eyes glistening with tears are mesmerising as they bore into Grant.

Gee has a similar expression. His pale face is blotchy from the effects of the overwhelming emotion of the last half hour.  
Neither Omega speaks. They appear torn. They have made their position clear, they regard Grant as their Alpha, but something is bothering them. Is it still concern that Grant is not as honourable as he makes out? Is Grant a 'for now' Alpha? An Alpha who seems willing to take them as they are for now, but not the ‘forever soulmate’ that Grant understands that they are for him?

“What’s bothering you, my pets? Did I push too far?”

Grant inhales deeply, taking the time to savour the heady mix of the two Omegas’ pheromones that are filling the air around them although, the mixture is laced with pain and one other emotion. Apprehension? Confusion? 

Grant vaguely remembers the urban myths that he’s dismissed for so long that the primal soul connections between twin flame mates will override the effect of suppressants and blockers. The yearning to belong to one another too strong for modern medical meddling. Grant finds himself falling headlong into that place where his Alpha consciousness rules. These are HIS Omegas. He will do whatever it takes to make it evident to the world that they belong to him. Grant is aware that they know it too. It strikes Grant that the Omegas are fighting their primordial nature. Their logical, independent thinking and the wounds from their traumatic pasts at odds with their primitive instincts and desires.

Grant’s already seen the impact his musk has on Frankie. He offers his neck to him, the place where the Omega can get the strongest impression of the worn leather, oak, and smoky spices. Grant doesn’t leave Gee out. He holds up his right wrist for Gee to draw in a deep whiff of Grant’s Alpha.

Grant, the advocate for equality amongst all races, creeds and genders, is appalled. He is manipulating Frankie and Gee. Grant the Alpha must get what Grant the Alpha wants. It’s wrong. Yet, it’s also right.

Once again, Grant experiences the quieting effect of his pheromones on Frankie. It works on Gee too. The subtle change in their musk is evidence enough. Their relationship, whatever it becomes can't be 'for now', it has to be forever.

“Come on, Omegas. Let’s go.”

Grant untangles himself from Frankie, gathers his belongings together and stands up.

Frankie and Gee stand patiently behind him, while Grant settles the check. Then they follow close after as he returns to his car.  
Grant’s Alpha is jubilant. The other side of Grant is struggling to play catch-up. He pauses before unlocking the car.

“You don’t have to do this. If you are indecisive, I will take charge, but I will never force you or order you against your will.”

It’s Gee who owns up. He’s embarrassed, twisting his fingers in front of him as he confesses what the problem that he and Frankie have is. 

“We have a shift later. We can’t let Brian down.”

“Even if we could get people to cover,” Frankie adds, scuffing the toe of his boot against the curb, “rent’s nearly a week overdue, and we’re more than one shift short.”

Grant wants to shout, ‘That’s all". All of him is now on board with taking charge. Getting another pairing to provide shift cover he can’t solve, but he could even offer Brian some money to make up for lost revenue if he has to. Making up on the rent, now that problem he can solve – easily. Grant opens the two passenger-side doors, motioning for the Omegas to get in.

“Neither problem is unsolvable. While I’m driving us back to mine, which is going to take a while in this traffic, Gee phone Brain and tell him you can’t work shift and that you’re trying to get cover. He already knows we’re meeting this afternoon.”

There is a little ‘huff’ from the Rogue Omega next to him and a displeased narrowing of the eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that that Omega – I had to go through him to get to you. Frankie, are you ok to phone around for cover? Anyone already owes you guys?”

It’s like a lightbulb going off over Frankie’s head. The first massive grin Grant’s seen spreads across the short Omega’s face.  
Frankie nudges Gee.

“Of fucking course, Jamie owes you, doesn’t she? D’ya think Carrie would be up for an extra? Have you seen the way she watches Jamie all the time? Her tongue’s near enough hanging out of her mouth.”

“Yep and yep. Brian shouldn’t get too bent out of shape, I think he’s already got Pete and Trick on shift together too, so there’s a male on male pairing already. Give it a go.”

The two Omegas pull their phones out of their pockets as they slide into Grant’s car.

The journey’s only three miles. It shouldn’t take very long at all, but ten minutes later they haven’t even made it 1 mile in the stop-start traffic.

“Sorted,” Frankie says. 

The big beaming smile is still plastered on Frankie’s face as Grant checks him out in the rear-view mirror. Grant observes that he must give Frankie a life that makes him smile like this more often. Grant chuckles to himself. He suspected that there would be a mischievous side to Frankie’s character, and there it is on full display in his poorly concealed matchmaking attempt.

‘Hey! Thanks for calling back…yeah, I know…Frankie’s got it sorted…Jaime and Carrie, ok...Calm down, Brain, it’s one shift alright, and you’re covered – you’re not losing out! Look, I know they’ve never…look it wasn’t as if we were doing a show, so who cares…”

Grant can hear Brian yelling at Gee down the phone. He’s not having that. He holds out his hand for the phone.

Gee shakes his head and mouths, “You’re driving.”

Grant’s Alpha dominance flares and his face instantly transforms into a ‘don’t mess with me’ look.

“Put it on speaker. Hold it closer to me, Omega,” Grant demands, careful to clearly articulate every syllable, leaving Gee in no doubt that his obedience is expected.

Gee shrugs but hastily complies.

“Brian, Grant Morrison here.”

There is a sharp intake of breath at the other end of the line.

“Is there a problem here?”

“No, er, no, Grant…no problem.” Brian sounds shocked that Grant has taken the phone away from Gee. "It’s just that it’s short notice and I was expecting Gee and Frankie to be working tonight, I was expecting one or two of the regulars to want to see them tonight, so the girls are good but they…” Brian begins to ramble.

Grant cuts him off.

“It was unexpected for all of us, but the three of us have things to discuss, so strike while the iron’s hot and all that.”

Grant isn’t anticipating the next question from Brian. It sounds like it’s coming from an overprotective father, not the boss of a strip and sex-show joint.

“It will be just the three of you tonight, won’t it?”

“Yes,” Grant replies, calmly, “They will be with me and no-one else. I do appreciate your concern for the Omegas, Brian, but they are adults who can make their own decisions. They are coming with me of their own free will, ok? Now, I believe you have a business to run, and I…I have two handsome Omegas to entertain and discuss the future with. Have a good day.”

“Right, yes, OK. You too, Grant. Bye.” With that, Brian hangs up.  
Grant takes his eyes off the road. It’s okay; they’re stationary again.

“Brian is rather protective of you, isn’t he? It’s a good sign that he was questioning my motives. I get the impression that’s not just him protecting his revenue either.”

“No, he can get all mother hen on us, especially if he thinks anything could happen to Frankie. Brian triggered him once when he shouted at him for something, and Brian’s never forgiven himself, so you know, he takes our safety kinda personally.”

“Yeah, I see that,” Grant concedes. “I don’t think he believes my intentions towards you two are entirely honourable.”

Inwardly, Grant knows how Brian feels. He would feel the same in his position. Grant’s also aware that revenue is the secondary concern in Brian’s mind. Not for the one shift, but the fears that he’s about to lose two good money earners if Grant does sweep the Omega’s off their feet, mates them and claims them. It’s a valid worry. There is no way in hell that Grant's letting Frankie and Gee continue working in that place if things go the way he plans. Obviously, they can work if they want to. With Grant’s money, they won’t need to, but he won’t stop them unless it's in the sex industry. That is a big ‘no’.

Grant flicks on the car stereo and shuffles stations until he finds one playing a song he recognises and likes. It helps cover up the silence as the three men get lost in their thoughts, until eventually, Grant pulls up into his allotted space in the parking lot next to his apartment building.

Two hours later, Grant emerges from his study. He has no idea what has been going on since he left Frankie and Gee to their own devices, giving them free rein over the rest of his apartment. He’s been absorbed in his work. It’s getting there. Some pieces aren’t flowing as he’d like, but the editing process will work out the kinks. It always does.

The sight that he’s met with is adorable. Frankie and Gee have raided the hallway closet. Grant’s heart flips as he watches the two Omegas curled up together on one of the couches. They are covered, not by one of the blankets hanging over the back of the couch, but by several of his jackets. It is apparent that Frankie and Gee feel at peace in Grant’s home. They’re almost nesting.

Grant knows immediately what he wants. He hasn’t seen their apartment; however, he can’t imagine that it would be somewhere he would wish to have them living. It’s probably only one step up from slum living. He won’t put up with them living like that. Grant wants to make them move in right away. He yanks his Alpha back before it gets carried away. Only they can make that choice. It is the only logical choice, settle what they owe, move them out, figure out the logistics of the living space in his apartment later. It’s not like it’s a small place, but there are only three bedrooms, and one of those is his study. He won’t make any assumptions about sleeping arrangements or what space Frankie and Gee might want from each other.

Grant leaves them be. He pours himself a scotch, sipping the fiery amber liquid as he ponders the possible permutations for moving the two Omegas into his apartment.

Frankie stirs first, easing out the kinks in his neck and back while still clinging onto one of Grant’s jackets.

“Welcome back, sleepyhead. Good nap?”

“Oops! Um…Yeah. That was probably very rude of us. How long have you been watching?”

“Not long, little one. I’m pleased you were comfortable enough to make yourselves at home. Would you wake Gee for me, please?” 

There is a hint of Alpha tone in the request. Playing the waiting game is starting to fray the edges of the Alpha’s patience. Frankie and Gee are his mates. Any idiot with half a brain could tell that. Grant’s Alpha is demanding that the pussyfooting around stop. The three of them have hinted enough that they agree with where this is going, so the Alpha is screaming “GET ON WITH IT!” 

What the Alpha forgets is that Grant’s mates are not your common or garden Omegas. Gee is a Rogue with a chip on his shoulder the same size as his head and scarring from how others have treated his differences. Frankie, unsurprisingly, remains a degree traumatised from his life before Gee. Grant and his Alpha side have to tread carefully. The prognosis isn’t promising if the Alpha goes at this all guns blazing.

With a grumpy Gee awake, Grant suggests that he orders in some Chinese. When the Omegas agree, he places a delivery order over the phone before sitting down on the couch opposite them. Grant tucks away another piece of information for future reference. Waking Gee up before he is ready to wake results in a disagreeable Gee until his body and mind catch on to being fully awake. It’s not an ideal starting point for the conversation they are about to wade into. However, Grant won’t put it off any longer. If he does, he runs the risk of his Alpha deciding that it wants to run the show, even after Grant has reasoned with it that going off half-cocked is a terrible idea.

“I think,” Grant starts, trying to keep his Alpha voice at bay, “we’ve been dancing around the metaphorical handbag all afternoon. Better to get things out in the open.” He stops to draw breath, then continues. “I want both of you to be my mates, my Omegas for the rest of our lives. Right now, my Alpha is clawing at me to let it loose so that I can claim you, but I won’t, not yet. The ‘if’ and ‘when’ of that belongs to you. Now I have more I want to say about how I see this working, what I would like, but before I do, I need to know the truth about how you feel. I need you to tell me separately.”

That last sentence does carry the full weight of Grant’s Alpha tone. Gee answering for both of them won’t do.

Grant is taken aback when Frankie answers first. He delivers his reply in a voice that is soft, delicate, fragile and full of feeling.

“Since the first second that I caught your scent, Alpha, I knew. Even though I was going into heat, my reaction to you was different from anything I have ever felt around an Alpha at that time. It struck me then and there that the three of us were meant to be. The misfit soulmates that don’t believe that such things exist. I was terrified that you hadn’t felt it too and that I’d never see you again. I want you. I need you to claim me and make me yours, Grant. Alpha, please?”

“Of course, my pet, in time.” Grant almost sighs out the words as a load lifts off his shoulders. He looks at Gee. His relief becomes stronger. There was never any doubt, really, but it's encouraging to see that the answer Grant wants to hear is writ large on the Rogue’s face.

“I’m no Frankie with the words, Grant, but I am yours, and I am his – eternally.”

It’s such a heartfelt response that Grant can’t quite believe that it has come out of the independent Omega’s mouth. He is, however, grateful to have received the verbal declaration.

Grant tries to shake himself out of his reflective place. There are practicalities to sort out. Ground rules need to be agreed. All of that must be in place before there can be a fairy-tale happily ever after. Honestly, though, he wants to bask in this moment for a while. The Alpha asserts that all that logical stuff will keep until after the food has arrived. It wants to get right to the mating and claiming. Those two need bite marks on their necks telling the world that they’re Grant’s before they leave this apartment - to hell with being practical. It’s not going to happen though, he promised. Grant pushes the urge down. Instead, he opens his arms wide, grinning at the two Omegas.

“Come here, little loves. I want to hold you.”

Gee and Frankie jump up off their couch. Frankie practically sprints the short distance to where Grant is sitting. They place themselves either side of Grant and cuddle up to him, resting their heads on his shoulders.

Grant wraps his arms around them, pulling them as close into him as they can possibly be. He lets out the most contented hum he thinks he has voiced in his life - ever. 

Frankie and Gee are making equally contented noises as they nuzzle into Grant’s neck, drinking in his scent.

All three men are keenly aware that this is where they are supposed to be. This, the three of them here in this Upper East Side apartment is home.

**Author's Note:**

> So there you have it - Frankie, Gee, and Grant get their shot at a happily ever after. This is definitely the last we will see of them in this particular AU, but not the last F/G/G or last A/B/O combination for them. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. Comments and Kudos are much appreciated. I love hearing what you think about these fics, so all constructive comments are welcome.


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